


My Brother, my Tech Officer

by LeDiz



Series: The 48: TMNT [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: (leo the control freak), Donnie the realist, Gen, Leo and Donnie as teammates, Leo the Leader, and brothers second, second season fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: Leo worries about how Donnie manages his time and himself, and then worries about why.





	

The lair was quiet. Not too quiet, as he almost felt required to think, but quiet. As it probably should have been, given that it was four in the morning.

They’d gotten back to the lair after evening patrol at one, and everyone had gone to bed a while ago. Everyone but Donatello, at least, who these days had to be dragged out of his lab even for patrol. He was working on his turtle mecha thingy most nights, which, while incredibly cool, seemed literally fantastic to Leonardo most of the time.

Fantastic in the sense of ‘fantasy’. Donnie couldn’t really build a giant mecha, could he?

He rolled onto his side, closing his eyes tighter and willing himself to stop thinking about it. Sleep. He needed sleep. They all did – if Donatello was even half as smart as he seemed to think he was, he would be sleeping too.

Of course he could build a giant mecha turtle. He’d built the ShellRaiser. He’d built the go-cart, which could split off into four parts. He’d built Metalhead like three times over. This was just combining them all and scaling it up. Easy, probably.

Easy for Donnie.

He realised his eyes were open again when he heard movement from next door, and so craned his neck to look at the wall. When it didn’t immediately stop, Leonardo swung his legs out of bed and stood up, moving over to open his door at the same time as his brother did his.

When Raphael stuck his head out, at first he just frowned at Donatello’s open door, before he noticed Leonardo and raised an eye ridge. “Little late for you, ain’t it?”

“And you,” he replied quietly. “You going to get Donnie?”

The panicked, cornered look on his face was answer enough, but Raphael quickly cleared his throat and pulled back. “Uh, no. What do I care if that brainiac gives up on sleep?” he snapped quietly. “I just, uh… wanted to get a drink. That’s all.”

Leonardo smirked. Always the tough guy. “Right. Don’t worry – you get your water. I’ll worry about Donatello.”

For a second, he thought Raphael would find some way to argue, but in the end he just huffed and stepped out of the room. “Whatever.”

They walked down the stairs together, but Raphael only hesitated a couple of seconds before flicking his hand dismissively and striding toward the kitchen. Leonardo watched him go, then turned his attention to the lab.

Donatello was tapping away at his laptop, eyes at half-mast as he concentrated, but they flicked up as Leonardo slipped through the door. He blinked, then frowned and checked his laptop. “Is my clock wrong? What time is it?”

“Almost four, Donnie. Go to bed,” he said, walking over to join him.

“I’m fine. I just want to get this code set done tonight,” he said, and raised his eye ridges as Leonardo leaned on his shell to peer at the laptop. “Really, it’s just programming. I’ll turn in soon.”

It was code. Lots and lots of code. All separated out into short lines and paragraphs, as he’d learned ‘neat’ coding always was, but it still didn’t make any sense to Leonardo, who was pretty sure ‘syntax’ was a grammar term and ‘div’ was bad spelling. And he was pretty sure that he was better with computers than Michelangelo, let alone Raphael, who still had difficulties with the microwave.

He wondered if it would make any sense to April.

“How about I wait for you?” he suggested, pushing off Donatello’s shell and moving over to sit on one of the other tables. “Since you won’t be long.”

Donatello scoffed but didn’t deign to respond, just going back to his laptop. Leonardo let his eyes wander around the lab, taking in all the new additions. Before they went to the surface, Donatello’s lab had mostly been a place for him to store all his repair projects where Michelangelo wouldn’t hurt himself on them. Really, it had been more their algae fishing area than a lab. Now, Donatello had been forced to get more tables to hold all the things he was working on, and he was pretty close to filling up the entire room. Tim took up a good metre square. Metalhead prototypes were another. Kraang technology was heaped in specific piles all over the place. His mutagen cabinet, locked up with signs telling Michelangelo to ‘REMEMBER THE SHELLACNE’ was in pride of place, though right now it was mostly empty.

Leonardo found his eyes lingering there, thinking of Karai.

“Hey, Donnie.”

“Mm?”

“You’re going to be able to create more retro-mutagen, right?”

Donatello’s typing paused, and he looked around at Leonardo, then sighed and actually pushed his chair away from the desk. “I’m gonna try, Leo.”

“Try?” he repeated. “You did it before.”

“But I also thought that whole canister would be needed to reverse the process, and it only took a drop. That makes me wonder what would have happened if we’d used a full dose,” he said slowly, obviously making an effort to be clear about his concerns. “This is dangerous stuff, and to be honest with you, most of the time I’m just guessing. But really, we don’t have a proper way to test it, and I can’t risk getting things wrong. Not after what happened to –” He stopped, eyes flicking toward Tim, then started again. “After all, evolution is ultimately a kind of mutation. I know it’s not exactly the same, but theoretically, an overdose could risk de-evolving someone right past homo-sapiens and into pure ooze.”

Leonardo flinched, then frowned. “So only use a little at a time.”

“It could still go wrong. When mutation isn’t allowed to occur the way the Kraang designed it to, that’s when you get…” Again, he looked toward Tim, and his fist tightened on his leg. “…mistakes. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone someone as important as Karai.”

He flinched again. “I didn’t –”

“It’s okay, Leo,” he said with a smile. “Of course we’re going to help everyone, but—as horrible as it sounds—some people are more important to us than others. Some people should be cured first.”

“Yeah, but… are you okay with that person being Karai?” he asked. “What about Pulveriser?”

“I’ll fix him,” he said firmly. “But Karai is Master Splinter’s daughter. No offence, Leo, but this isn’t about you.”

He had to smile at that, but it quickly faded as he looked back at the cabinet again. “How long do you think it’ll take you?”

Surprisingly, Donatello didn’t immediately answer, and by the time Leonardo looked around, he was facing his laptop again. “As long as it takes, I’m afraid.”

“We might not have that time. If the Kraang move up their schedule, we might need lots of this stuff,” he pointed out.

“Well, sure, but first I need more mutagen,” he replied, gesturing to the cabinet. “And that stuff doesn’t exactly grow on trees, Leo. And even if it did, we’re nowhere near close enough to a community garden to harvest them!”

Leonardo gave him a deadpan look, so Donatello kept his laugh to a weak chuckle before looking forward again.

“My point is that even if I was confident about how the retro-mutagen works, it’s going to take time for us to gather enough materials to do anything about it,” he said. “And I know it might not seem like it, but the retro-mutagen can wait. Stopping the Kraang is our main priority, and for that, we need to be able to fight them.”

“Hence the mecha turtle,” Leonardo agreed. “But that’s taking a long time too.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, pausing his coding for a second before continuing. “Unfortunately, so will pretty much anything else I make to fight them. Engineering takes _time_ , Leo.”

He sighed and touched his forehead. He knew that. He did. And ragging on Donnie was not what he came in here to do. “We both need a break. Come on, go to bed.”

Leonardo pretended not to hear Donatello muttering “do you even hear yourself” as he pushed himself off the table. Instead, he grabbed the back of Donatello’s chair and dragged him away from the desk.

“Get up and start walking, or I’ll tip you down the steps.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” he said, and jumped off the chair, though he went back to hit a couple of keys on his laptop before heading for the door. “And I always thought Raph was the crazy one.”

“Hey,” Raphael snapped, and as they came out the door, it was to see him leaning against the pipe near the dojo, scowling at him. “Watch your mouth, Brainiac, or I’ll knock out the few screws you’ve still got.”

“Finished your drink?” Leonardo asked mildly, and Raphael turned his scowl on him.

“What’s it to you, Fearless? Now come on,” he said irritably, leading the way to the bedrooms. “It’s late and I’m tired.”

“Right behind you, Raph,” Donatello said, stretching his arms high up over his head.

And Leonardo watched him closely as they walked, thinking about all the things they needed Donatello to do.

 

* * *

 

Another month, another mission with a Kraang computer to hack. Leonardo felt his teeth grind when Donatello’s first response was to just stare at it blankly.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, and shoved him toward the console. “Find us a way into the garage.”

“Oh, uh, right,” he said, and his hands rose, but didn’t touch anything.

“Donnie!” he snapped.

“Ooh! I can do it! I totally get these things now!” Michelangelo cried, bouncing beside Donatello’s shoulder. “See? It’s like a touch-pad, you just swipe your hand here –”

“No, Mikey, don’t!” Donatello screeched, but too late. Alarms burst into sound around them, the lights flashing blue and red. There was pure lightning in Donatello’s glare, and Michelangelo laughed weakly.

“It looked familiar?”

“Yes, Mikey. Because every console has an emergency response signal,” he snarled.

Leonardo snatched his ningato from their sheaths, and Raphael had his sais spinning through his fingers as he yelled, “Shut it off!”

“I can’t!” Donatello snapped, but threw out a hand before Raphael could fix it with his own form of percussive maintenance. “But I might be able to get us the access we need. Just—” He paused as the door behind them opened, revealing a dozen Kraang droids. “—keep them off me.”

“You got it.”

The other three flew into motion, cutting through the legion with practiced grace. But they kept coming, and a whole minute passed with Donatello tapping away at the console, and Leonardo felt his patience growing thin. “Donatello!”

“I’m working on it!” he snapped back. “This isn’t exactly a PC, y’know!”

“Work faster!”

Another minute, and they finally heard the sound of Donatello’s triumphant cackle. “Got it! Follow me!”

“What the heck took so long?” Leonardo demanded as they vaulted a security gate and started sprinting down the hall. “You’ve hacked reality gateways faster than that.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Donatello snapped back. “And besides, when I hack Kraang stuff, I have hardware to do it! All I was doing this time was finding files!”

“And it still took you that long?”

“Hey, do _you_ read Kraang language?”

“Shut it, you guys!” Raphael yelled, slapping them both over the head as he passed them. “Argue on your own time!”

They both stared at him, and then at Michelangelo as he sped up to run between them. “Geez, you know you’ve got a problem when _Raphael’s_ telling you not to fight.”

They continued the rest of the way in relative silence, and when they reached the garage, Donatello didn’t need telling as he headed straight for the door lock. However, rather than press any buttons, he used his naginata blade to snap off the console, revealing wires instead.

“Get in the van and get ready. This is not going to be a silent getaway.”

They piled inside, but there were no keys in the ignition. Nor did there seem to be any hanging on any nearby walls. Leonardo slapped the steering wheel. “Donnie! No keys!”

“Oh, for the love of –” He finished whatever he was doing and the garage door began sliding open. He hadn’t even taken a step before a dozen Kraang started pouring in from various doors around them, and another alarm started blaring high overheard.

“Donnie?” Leonardo shouted, even though his brother was already sprinting toward him.

The second he reached the van, he yanked open the driver’s door and shoved Leonardo’s leg aside. “Move!” he commanded, but didn’t wait before pulling off something near the pedals and starting to fiddle. Stuck where he was, Leonardo could only grab shurinkan from his belt and start throwing as Raphael and Michelangelo scrambled out of the van to defend.

“Of course they have immobilisers,” Donatello muttered. “Couldn’t ever make it as easy as TV.”

“Less complaining more hacking!” Leonardo snapped, having to reach awkwardly to get out a tanto and block a Kraang from reaching for Donatello’s mask.

“It’s called hot-wiring,” he corrected irritably. “Hacking is for data.”

“Really? You’re doing that now?”

“It’s important—”

“—to be accurate, I know, Donnie, just fix this!”

He hissed, and for a second Leonardo thought the Kraang he was fighting must have scored a hit on Donatello’s exposed half, but he couldn’t see anything, so he decided it had to be out of annoyance and kicked his shoulder. That got him an angry shout, but it was followed by the beautiful sound of the engine starting, and Donatello was able to twist around and punch the Kraang droid off him.

“Raphael! Mikey! We’re leaving!” Leonardo shouted.

Raphael got back in the passenger side, while Donatello and Michelangelo just slammed the doors shut and then hopped up to cling on the sides. They got away okay in the end, which normally meant Leonardo would have spent the drive back home telling Donatello off for screwing up, but not only did his brother’s glare tell him to wait, their position allowed him to see what he recognised as a nasty electrical burn on Donatello’s finger. Which probably meant he’d hurt himself either on the door or the van. And Leonardo had kicked him for complaining.

He grimaced apologetically, but didn’t bother saying anything, instead focussing on the conversation around him as his brothers confirmed this would be enough to make retro-mutagen, and they wouldn’t have to go back for a while.

 

* * *

 

“Seriously? You’re gonna teach me how to hot-wire a car?”

Leonardo froze, then took a step back, so he could see into the subway where Donatello and Raphael were standing on the edge of the platform. Donatello was scratching the back of his neck and looking vaguely annoyed, but Raphael almost looked… excited.

“Older cars to start with. Anything after about 2005 might be a problem,” Donatello corrected.

“That’s still awesome.” Raphael hesitated, then frowned and asked, “Why me? It was Leo you taught how to pick locks.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Donatello opened one eye to look at him. “I just figured you’d be more interested. I always got the feeling you were into engines.” He paused a second, looking uncertain. “I guess I was wrong –”

“Are you kidding? No way! Let’s do this!”

“Not to interrupt or spoil your fun, guys,” Leonardo interjected, stepping up to the turnstiles. “But are you sure you’ve got time for this, Donnie?”

They turned to look at him, Raphael scowling and Donatello looking confused. “Time?”

“We just got all that mutagen,” he pointed out. “And there’s still the mecha-turtle to build.”

Donatello blinked. “Yeah, but yesterday did kind of prove it’d be helpful if one of you guys knew your way around a car. I probably should have shown you guys how to do all this when we were learning how to drive.”

“Yesterday was kind of a mess,” he agreed, holding up his hands. “But you’ve got a lot going on right now, and I don’t want you spreading yourself too thin.”

Raphael raised an eye ridge, and Donatello set a hand on his hip, expression going deadpan. “I’m _fine_ , Leo. Besides, if Raph picks this up quick enough, he might even be able to help out with the mech.”

“Seriously?” Raphael asked, but Leonardo cut Donatello off before he could answer.

“And what if he doesn’t?” he shot back. “Donnie, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, and I think you teaching us some of your skills is a really great idea. But I don’t think you realise how hard some of the stuff you do _is_. We can’t just pick things up the way you do.”

He wasn’t sure who looked more offended by that, but Leonardo didn’t have time for Raphael’s feelings. “I’m just saying—as your leader—your time is a really valuable resource, and I think it would be better spent focussing on what we need done, rather than something that can wait until after we’ve stopped the Kraang invasion, okay?”

He shot them one last serious look, then continued on his way. He was almost to the dojo before he noticed Michelangelo watching him from the pit, blinking wide eyes in a weird look.

“What?”

“Nothing, brah,” he said, raising his magazine again. “You do what you gotta do.”

He frowned at that, but Michelangelo was already focussed on his reading, so he just continued on his way.

 

* * *

 

After fifteen years of forced inseparability, certain unspoken rules had developed about when you were allowed to bug your brothers. If you were in one of the common areas, which included the kitchen, dojo, main room, and lab, you were fair game. Bedrooms were not.

So although he hadn’t actually been trying for solitude, Leonardo was a little surprised when Raphael leaned against his bedroom doorway, arms folded and legs crossed.

“Raph? Something wrong?”

He continued frowning silently for a second, then said, “You know, I can’t believe I’m the one who has to tell you this, but despite all signs to the contrary, Donatello isn’t actually a machine. You can’t just turn him on and expect him to do what you want.”

He blinked, then set the tanto he’d been sharpening aside. “I know that. Why do you think I’m always on his case about eating properly? And sleep?” he pointed out. “Did he say something? Is he mad about that mission the other day?”

“I don’t know. You think he’d tell me if he was angry?” he asked, and they both paused, considering that statement against their volatile genius, before he grinned and added, “More than his usual level of boiling, I mean.”

“Maybe. But he’s more likely to tell you if he’s ticked at me,” he pointed out, and Raphael shrugged, conceding the point.

“I’m pretty sure the only one he actually yells at is Mikey. But no, this is all me, Leo,” he said, and levelled him with a serious look. “You gotta lay off him. You know the only reason he’s working so hard is because he thinks we need what he’s doing.”

“We do need it,” he said blankly. “We’re not going to win this fight with just fists.”

“Yeah, I know, but –” Raphael huffed out a breath, glancing off to the side before coming back to him. “He’s going as fast as he can.”

“I _know_ that,” he replied firmly. “That’s why I don’t think he should be wasting his time on any side projects.”

Raphael just gazed at him silently for a few seconds, so Leonardo hunched forward, spreading his hands in point. “Like I said yesterday: I don’t want him to spread himself too thin. We know he’s going to do his best on anything he does, and we also know he’s willing to sacrifice his health to get them done. And that’s not a sacrifice he should be allowed to make. So I don’t want him working on anything other than what we really need. Okay?”

He didn’t respond straight away, and when he finally did, it was just a vague shrug, before he rolled around the doorframe and sauntered out of sight.

Leonardo found himself staring at the door, not entirely sure why he was feeling guilty.

 

* * *

 

With her father finally back, April wasn’t spending nearly as much time at the lair, though she was still by most afternoons for training. Usually she only stayed to hang out if Donatello was having one of his rare breaks for air or if Casey was already around, though, so they were all a little surprised when she came by on a free afternoon without prompting.

“Dad’s thank you gift for Donnie finally came in,” she explained, as Raphael took the heavy box she’d been lugging.

“Thank you gift?” Leonardo repeated blankly. “I thought that was why you kept buying us all that food.”

Almost immediately after turning back, Kirby had visited the lair and made a point of asking them all what they wanted in thanks for turning him human again. They’d insisted they didn’t need any, particularly since the whole thing had technically been their fault, but he’d insisted on finding some way to help out. Since then, their refrigerator had been almost constantly full of fresh meat and vegetables – luxuries they’d never realised they’d been doing without.

“What’s a…” Raphael squinted as he read the box. “Mass-spec-trom-itor?”

“Uh… a bigger version of whatever that is?” she suggested. “I know they have one on NCIS, and I know it analyses stuff, but mostly, I know Donnie was geeking out about it. This is just a miniaturised version they use for roadshows and stuff, but hopefully he’ll like it.”

They all looked down at the box. Most of the words on it were in a language they couldn’t recognise, and the little English or Japanese that wasn’t ‘caution’, ‘fragile’, and ‘this way up’ didn’t make much more sense.

“How come Donnie gets a present?” Michelangelo demanded. “I was the one who nearly got eaten!”

“After all that buzz-buzzing you deserved it,” Raphael snapped back, and started toward the lab. “Besides, you’re the cook. Technically, all the food we’re getting is for you to use!”

“That so doesn’t count.”

“Well, technically, neither does this,” April said with a wince. “While Donnie was geeking out, he mentioned that having one of these would have made the retro-mutagen discovery go a little faster. When Dad was ordering this, he said it was to the benefit of mankind, more than turtle-kind. I’m just not supposed to tell you that, because he thinks it makes him sound ungrateful.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure Donnie will love it… once he finishes feeling guilty,” Leonardo said, grimacing slightly. “Seriously, how much did this thing cost?”

“That’s something else I’m not supposed to tell you,” she said cheerfully. “For the very reason you mentioned.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t help my conscience.” But, all the same, Leonardo pulled open the door to the lab so Raphael could walk in unhindered, and they all looked around to see where the box could go. In the end, they decided to just stick it on his desk next to his laptop, while April looked around in slight confusion.

“That’s a first. I didn’t think he left the lab anymore,” she said blankly. “What happened – did he finally crash, or something?”

“No, today’s a turtle-mecha day,” Michelangelo said, jerking his thumb toward the garage door. “He’s down in his ‘scrap yard’, checking what parts he’ll need.”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing you came when you did, or you would’ve missed us,” said Raphael. “Once he gets back, we’re taking an early patrol so he can go scavenging in the military junk yard.”

“Oh. Well, maybe I’ll go say hi, then,” she said, and Leonardo frowned as she started toward the door.

“I don’t know, April. Donnie’s pretty busy right now.”

Both Michelangelo and Raphael stared at him, but April just smiled as she continued on. “I know. Believe it or not, I kinda prefer him that way. Less googly eyes,” she said with a laugh. “I won’t get in his way, I promise.”

He folded his arms but didn’t comment, and the others waited until she was gone and out of ear shot before turning on him.

“Dude,” Michelangelo said.

“Tell me you did not almost just do what I think you almost did,” Raphael said blankly.

Leonardo stared at them. “What?”

“You tried to keep April from going to see Donatello,” Michelangelo said, and then shook his head. “Not cool, bro. Not cool at all.”

“Yeah, the other way around is one thing – some turtles need to be given boundaries. But when _she_ actually wants to spend time with _him_?” Raphael raised an eye ridge. “Even I think that’s kind of a jerk move, Leo.”

Leonardo blinked, then scoffed, leaning back against a handy table. “Oh, come on. This has nothing to do with Donnie’s little crush.”

“Big crush,” Michelangelo corrected. “And yeah, we know.”

“Huh?”

“This is about you wanting to micro-manage Donatello’s life,” snapped Raphael.

“Wha – no, I’m not!” he cried. “I just –”

“April isn’t a ‘side-project’,” he pointed out. “She’s a friend.”

He wasn’t sure why, but it suddenly felt like his brain had to scramble to defend itself. “Wh- I – _yeah_ , and we all know what a jerk Donatello can be when he’s trying to focus on something!” he said, and tried to convince himself he didn’t sound desperate. “Poor guy digs himself enough holes around April without snapping her head off for interrupting!”

Michelangelo gave him the look that the back of his mind knew that deserved. Not only had April actively managed to tick Donatello off before, but she’d spent many, many nights helping him with the retro-mutagen. If she couldn’t handle him in a tetchy mood, she would have given up on him a long time ago.

But he _wasn’t_ trying to control Donnie’s life. He was just… just… making sure his brother… had… space. And time. To… do stuff. Without having to worry about other stuff. That was definitely part of it. He tightened his arms over his chest and tried to look like they were the ones who couldn’t see the big picture.

Funny how it didn’t seem to work.

 

* * *

 

“Is something bothering you, Leonardo?”

He gave up on trying to centre himself, opening one eye to peek sideways at Splinter. “No?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow. They’d been meditating for about half an hour – or at least, Splinter had, while Leonardo had spent at least twenty minutes trying to ignore the lists in his head. He sighed and pulled himself around to face Splinter directly.

“I don’t… strictly know what it is that’s bothering me,” he confessed. “Lately, all I can think about is how much we have to do, how little time we have, and… how much it depends on Donnie.”

“You are concerned he will not be able to handle the pressure?” he asked, and Leonardo paused, considering that.

“No… no, I don’t think that’s it,” he said slowly. “It’s all stuff he’s done before, and he doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Ah. Then perhaps you are concerned he will overwork himself.”

He fidgeted. “I thought that’s what it was, but he seems to be doing fine.”

There was a twinkle in Splinter’s eyes, but he remained calm and serious as he said, “Have you spoken to Donatello on the matter?”

“No…”

“Perhaps doing so will bring you the peace you desire.”

“Or it’ll end in a massive fight where he tells me I’m a lousy leader,” he replied. “I get in enough of those with Raphael without Donatello telling me what he thinks.”

“Nevertheless. You will speak to Donatello.”

He sighed and started getting to his feet. “Hai, sensei.”

 

* * *

 

Not wanting to distract him when he seemed to be in a good headspace, Leonardo waited until they were out on patrol to corner him.

Or, rather, he sent Raphael and Michelangelo to check out the streets a few blocks away while he and Donatello cornered their usual haunts. All three of them gave him looks that said they knew exactly what he was doing, but no one actually said anything.

In fact, Donatello basically ignored him as they leapt across the rooftops, scanning the area with his usual lack of focus until they reached the end of a block, where an elementary school sprawled out in front of them. He paused with his foot on the ledge, staring down at the playground, and Leonardo took a second to decide how to breach the topic.

“So, Donnie,” he began, clapping his hands together. “This is a good break, huh? Getting out of the lair and away from all that work?”

Donatello’s expression went even more deadpan as he looked at him. “Yeah. It’s good to get some fresh air.”

“Of course, of course… and you are getting breaks. Eating, sleeping, stuff like that?”

“Yup,” he said, barely moving a muscle. “All good here, Leo.”

“Good, good… I just uh… wanted to be sure.”

“Uh huh.”

They stared at each other for a long time, Leonardo growing increasingly panicked. He still didn’t really know what he was worrying about.

“So you still want to patrol with us?” he asked desperately. “Even with how much work you’re doing?”

Donatello’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes. And I still want in on the missions.”

More emotion rose in Leonardo’s throat at the idea of Donatello not coming on missions with them. Not being there to hack the systems and hot-wire the controls and – and then he was hit with a horrible feeling of disappointment. He twitched at the rush of emotions, then rubbed the back of his neck, staring anywhere but at Donatello.

“Okay, seriously, Leo, what’s this about?” he demanded. “You know I can’t work any faster without putting more time in, but you’re always on my case about balancing my life. I think I’m doing pretty okay at the moment, so why the heck are you freaking out at me?”

“I don’t know!” he blurted out, and Donatello balked, eyes going wide.

“What?”

“I – I don’t know,” he said again. “I… I think I’m worried. About… something.”

“Something?” he repeated. “About me?”

“No. Yes. No.” He paused, then groaned and grabbed his head with his hands. “Doesn’t it bother you? That – that all our plans seem to hinge so much on you? Your inventions, or your smarts, or something?”

Donatello blinked, then raised a finger to point at himself. He hesitated a second, then said, “Uh… no.”

“But there’s so much pressure!” he cried, waving at him. “You hate pressure! You always say you can’t work with all the pressure! That’s gotta bug you!”

Donatello opened his mouth, then closed it again. He kept blinking.

“It’s all on you! Everything! Every mission we have against the Kraang, if you weren’t there, we’d be screwed! And all our big missions against the Foot, we need your inventions. We wouldn’t even have smoke bombs if not for you!” he said. He could feel his heart rate climbing as he continued, the strange emotions he’d been dealing with these last few weeks jumbling around in his stomach. “What if something happened to you? What if you got hurt or kidnapped or got brain damage or something? We’d be completely lost! We’d be –”

Two hands clamped down on his shoulders, and he was swung around to stare into Donatello’s face. “Leo! Get a grip, man!”

He gaped back soundlessly, before the words forced themselves out of his throat. “I’m more worried about the missions than I am about you.”

And there it was. Leonardo blinked, suddenly aware of what had really been bothering him all this time, and cringed, because damn, he was a lousy brother. But rather than explode at him, Donatello just stared, as if waiting for more.

When none was forthcoming, Donatello gave him a quick shake. “That’s it?”

He nodded once, and stumbled as he was released.

“Okay, then.” Donatello pressed his hands together, closing his eyes with the serene smile that meant he was ramping up for some severe sarcasm. “As your brother, allow me to get one thing out of the way: thank you ever so much for your concern over my safety, you bottom-feeding arrogant jackass!”

He winced, but didn’t object, because he deserved it.

“And now, please consider everything I say with the caveat—” Donatello checked his expression and added “side point” in explanation before continuing, “—that as your brother, I am offended and annoyed and would hit you if I didn’t know you would hit me back harder.”

Leonardo glanced off to the side, then nodded once. Fair point.

“But, as your… science officer… lieutenant… thing,” he said, waving his hand in regards to their weird unspoken chain of command that always made Donatello second in charge, even though Raphael was replacement team leader. “Dude, chill out, I get it.”

“Y- what?”

He shrugged, leaning back on his hips. “You don’t have a chance of understanding Stockman’s machines, or how the mutagen works, or the Kraang’s technology, and sometimes hitting a lock until it opens doesn’t work. You wouldn’t have reached the Kraang base without the sub that I built, the ShellRaiser means we can travel more than a ten-block radius in a night, the terrain buggy lets us get something resembling speed, and the batwings are some of the most useful ninja tools I’ve ever heard of,” he said, ticking things off on his fingers. “April’s smart, but she barely understands code, and her chemistry is good enough to help me out, but that’s really all she’s doing. You’re learning about lock-picking, but it’s not really your thing, and while I’m pretty sure I could teach Raphael about engines, I don’t think he’s really got the creativity to build anything from scratch. Mikey does, but he doesn’t have the patience for engineering. Not to put too fine a point on it, but right now, the team can’t afford not to have me.”

Leonardo blinked, before his brother-status kicked in and he smirked. “Wow. Such modest. So humble.”

“You brought it up,” he said imperiously, but his eyes were serious when he met Leonardo’s gaze again. “You know it, I know it, and chances are, so do the Kraang. They recognised me as the one that built Metalhead. And Stockman knows I can make retro-mutagen.” He paused while that sunk in, taking a deep breath. “Jokes aside, Leo, it’s only so long we go without me becoming a target.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds, because as much as the protector in Leonardo wanted to say ‘I won’t let them get you’ and the big brother wanted to say ‘aw, you scared?’, the strategist and leader in him agreed with the logistician in Donatello. It was a fact, and one they couldn’t take lightly.

Still…

“I wish the only reason I was worried is because I don’t want my little brother getting hurt,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Donnie.”

“You know, there’s nothing but sensei’s guess that you’re older than I am,” Donatello pointed out dryly, but Leonardo ignored that, frowning at his feet. So he sighed and lifted his hands in a shrug. “I got nothing for you on that front, Leo. Nothing but the simple fact that we’ve kinda been training for this our whole lives. I don’t think we were ever supposed to just look at things as brothers.”

“Wish someone had told me that before I asked to be leader,” he muttered, and Donatello snorted.

“On a slightly darker note,” he said, looking up at the clouds as soon as Leonardo looked up, “if, for any reason, I don’t log into my laptop for more than sixteen hours, a program runs that opens a touch pad on the back. If another turtle should scan their thumbprint on said touch pad, my laptop will be unlocked, and open a document. It gives step-by-step instructions about how to make some of our stuff.”

Leonardo looked up sharply, but Donatello only graced him with a sidelong glance. “Not everything. Most of it I couldn’t explain to someone without some basic knowledge, but things like the smoke bombs and stuff. Some explosives. Enough for you to go into Shredder’s base equipped.”

“You… what?”

“Like Splinter always says: my inventions make life easier, but we survived just fine before them,” he said. “Ninjas adapt, sure, but there’s three thousand years of history and fifteen of Splinter kicking our butts that tells me our team could survive even if I blew myself up. The things is, those three thousand years of history include explosives experts, which I am for our team. So I’ve made sure there’s enough written down for you guys to get by until April or Casey gets up to scratch.”

“D-Donnie…?”

“You’re still going to have some issues with the Kraang, of course,” he continued blandly, lifting his finger in point, “but the more I think about it, the more I think that as long as you’re willing to forego stealth, then just hitting them really hard and fast will probably do the job eventually. The only issue we’ve had with them that didn’t ultimately come down to that was the Manhattan Project, and I think, realistically speaking, shutting down the gate and then killing all the worms probably would have done it too. Slower, sure, but ultimately the same result.”

Leonardo felt his jaw slowly dropping, but Donatello appeared to be ignoring him.

“Besides, let’s really think about this whole worst-case scenario thing here. Knowing what I can do, the Foot will probably want me alive to make retro-mutagen, even though I can’t do that without April, but they won’t know that. And I’m reasonably confident that I’ll be able to hide that knowledge under torture for at least a while, given our pain threshold. So you’ll have time to rescue me from them. The Kraang are a bit harder to figure out, because more likely they just want me out of the way, but their way of dealing with prisoners seems to be more locking them up than killing them outright, so again, it’s not really an immediate problem. You’ll have a bit of time either way.”

“You – that’s not – Donnie!”

“What?” he asked blankly. “I have a lot of ideas go through my head. My brain works very fast. Are you really surprised that I’ve had to think about this?”

“Well… yeah! Kinda. This is my thing to worry about!”

“And you were clearly doing such a great job of it,” he replied. “Face it, Leo – denial over practicalities does not get the inevitabilities sorted out. If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t come up with any strategies for you and Raph getting captured. I plan to flail and panic a bit, mostly.”

“But you have thought about Mikey?” he asked weakly, and Donatello frowned.

“I don’t think any of our current enemies would do that. Maybe if we met someone that could do mind-control… but he’s a bit too good at acting like he’s useless for someone to worry about that,” he said. “In that scenario, you or Raphael are better candidates, so again with the panic-plan.”

“So really it’s just you.”

“Well, I had to figure out why you were being such a jerk lately. Then it spiralled,” he said thoughtfully, and Leonardo could only stare at him for a long few minutes.

In the end, he turned and walked over to the water tower, leaning on it for a few minutes while he let everything settle in his head.

Really, the thing that was bugging him was the fact that he was worried about losing Donatello’s skillset, more than Donnie himself. Because that made him a horrible brother. But Donatello not only got why, but he’d gone out of his way to think the problem through, and provide a few possible solutions.

“You didn’t plan for your outright death,” he said dully. “What do we do then?”

Donatello looked at him sideways, and quirked a smile. “Viking funeral?”

“Really?” he asked. “You don’t want to just be flushed down the septic tanks?”

“Egh,” he said with a shrug, and they both managed to keep a straight face for all of five seconds.

When they finally finished snickering, Leonardo leaned his head back on his shell and stared up at the night sky. “I’m glad. As much as I know we should have a contingency plan, I wouldn’t want to. I don’t want anyone to be replaceable.”

“Hm…” Donatello wandered over to join him, slouching as only the lanky could. “I think that might be the brother in you talking, Leo.”

“Sure as heck isn’t any kind of sense,” he said, and rubbed his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“Egh,” he said again, but this time, it didn’t seem much like a joke. “Just lay off a little. How would you like it if I stood behind you in every fight, asking you when you’re gonna hit something?”

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. “You know, Raph and Mikey were getting all ticked on your behalf.”

“Of course they are. They don’t see things like we do.”

“Huh?”

Donatello sighed. “Do you want the psychology or the facts?”

“Uhh…? Three syllable maximum?”

“How about four? They’re reactionary people,” he said. “They think with their emotions. To me and you, it’s easier to plan things out, and we know that sometimes you’ve gotta shut down how you feel about something to get it done. Raphael and Michelangelo don’t work that way. So when I see you worrying about my skillset, I know it’s because you’re thinking big picture. They think you’re just trying to use me the same way Shredder uses Stockman.”

Leonardo flinched. “Donnie, I’m not –!”

“I know, Leo,” he said gently. “After all. What are you going to do if I can’t get the mecha-turtle ready in time?”

He blinked, then frowned. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

“No, not long-term. Immediately. What’re you going to do to me?”

“Uh… nothing? What’re you getting at?”

Donatello smiled, his eyes still on the middle distance. “Shredder turned Stockman into a fly.”

“Oh. Right.” He furrowed his brow. “Hey, um… you know I uh…” He coughed, deepening his voice and making a point of looking away. “You know I love you, right?”

Donatello sighed again, annoyance leaking off him. “Yes, Leo.”

“Oh. Good. Just so we’re clear.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I’m not just saying that because I don’t want you to think I’m like Shredder.”

“Hadn’t actually crossed my mind until just now.”

“I just… with this conversation and stuff, I just wanted to be clear, I don’t just, you know, want you around for your brains. You’re my brother, and I’d want you around even if you didn’t know anything.”

“Leo?”

“You want me to shut up now, huh?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, if you could.”

“Right. Okay. Right.” He clamped his mouth shut, only to open it again. “We should probably go let Raphael and Michelangelo know we haven’t killed each other.”

“Uh huh,” he said, and pushed off the water tower, gesturing for Leonardo to lead the way. “Then we should head back. I’ve got some work to do, you know?”

Leonardo smiled and thumped him on the shoulder. “Sure. And sleep, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The 48 are a collection of unfinished and/or pointless fics saved to my hard drive, now posted to Ao3 for people's interest or in case they want to adopt them.
> 
> As you may have guessed, most of my TMNT fiction was written in season two, and dealt with the issues that were basically dropped during season three. Leo and Donnie had such interesting friction, so I'm really disappointed they never got into that. Oh well.


End file.
